


Bet's Reward

by animatedrose



Series: Omegaverse: The Scent of the Stars [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Blow Jobs, Drunk Sex, Drunkenness, M/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-05-08 13:31:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5498837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/animatedrose/pseuds/animatedrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first of two promised sex scenes cut out of chapter 11 of The Scent of the Stars due to chapter length.</p><p>Hutch takes Matt to bed. Rewards are given. Alcohol helps and hurts. Hutch/Matt</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bet's Reward

**Author's Note:**

> So here’s the first of the two promised scenes that I decided not to include in chapter 11 of TSotS due to length. Sorry these are late. I’ve been busy over break…and I tend to procrastinate. Sorry…
> 
> Take your NSFW! It’s your Christmas present! Be happy!

Hutch shouldered open the door to Matt’s room, precariously balancing the drunken Epsilon in his arms. Matt was hiccupping and muttering to himself, giggles escaping him. Something about the way the walls bounced, if Hutch heard right.

Not that Hutch wasn’t feeling the buzz, but he was nowhere near the levels of drunkenness that Matt was. Not that Matt had a very high tolerance to begin with. Hutch had been drinking since he was sixteen. That was longer than Matt had been alive.

…Wait, that wasn’t right. Matt wasn’t sixteen, he was twenty-ish…right?

Hutch shook the thoughts from his head. Didn’t matter right now. Matt was old enough. That’s what mattered.

He stepped into the room they shared, kicking the door closed a little harder than he might’ve intended to. The Rho headed for the furthest bed and dropped Matt onto it. The redhead giggled, rolling until he was cocooned in his blankets.

“Lookit me! Imma taco~!” Matt declared.

“Don’t look very delicious to me,” Hutch argued.

“You got bad tastes!” Matt said, pouting up at him. “Hey, I won! You gotta…gotta, uh…blow me! Yeah, that’s it!”

“Not like that, I ain’t,” Hutch chuckled, sitting on the edge of Matt’s bed. “Gotta un-taco yourself first.”

“You never blew a taco before?”

“Can’t say I have.”

“It’s awesome!”

“I feel bad for all the phallic-looking food on the planet. Hugo ain’t the only one they should fear.”

“Hey! I’m…better than that…slut!” Matt slurred, trying to sit up in his cocooned form. “Um… Hutch? Can’t move much.”

“Un-taco yourself,” Hutch instructed.

“Can’t move,” Matt repeated. “I’m tacoed too tight.”

“Tacoed too tight?” Hutch broke off in laughs, hand on his face. “My god, you’re hilarious when you’re drunk.”

“I’m not drunk. I’m wise!” Matt corrected, hiccupping. “Now untaco me…so you can blow me…and I can sleep.”

“Why don’t we save the blowing for tomorrow?” Hutch suggested, searching for the edge of the blanket.

“Nooooo! You promised!” Matt argued, wiggling.

Hutch found the edge finally and tugged it. Matt rolled with it, falling off of the bed with a yelp. Hutch peered over the edge.

“You’re untacoed now.”

“Yay,” Matt flung an arm up. “Now…get me back up there!”

Hutch hauled the redhead up with a tug. Matt squirmed, climbing into the other’s lap to messily kiss him. Hutch frowned, getting a hand between their lips to push the smaller away. Matt whined, pawing at the larger man’s undershirt.

“Huuuuuutch! Why you no wanna kiss me?”

“’Cause you’re drunk. We gonna do this or not? You’re sick and I want to sleep,” Hutch replied.

“I don’t feel sick now,” Matt argued, fumbling with Hutch’s sweatpants. “Can’t…find the button. Just…string…”

“There ain’t no button. Pull ‘em down,” Hutch said, stretching the waistband as proof.

Matt yanked at the pants until Hutch lifted his hips to make it easier. The pants slid down to the Rho’s knees. Then Matt fumbled with the boxers before remembering how to pull them down too. He paused, staring at the prize before him.

“Yer…really big,” Matt noted, poking the head.

“I know that. So do you. You’ve done this before,” Hutch recalled, leaning back against the headboard. He suppressed his amused giggles.

“I have? …Oh yeah,” Matt nodded, wrapping his hands around it. “…Wait, aren’t you supposed to blow me?”

“I thought so. Dunno why you’re undressing me though,” Hutch shrugged.

“…Okay…” Matt pulled back, pawing at his own pants. “Uh… There’s no string.”

“You’ve got a button. And a zipper. Come here, let me,” Hutch said, yanking the redhead over by the hips to free him of his jeans. “There. Better?”

“Yeah,” Matt nodded. “Now, uh…do it.”

“Do what?” Hutch asked innocently.

“The thingie! Uh…blowing! There!” Matt declared proudly.

Hutch pursed his lips and blew air into Matt’s face. “There.”

“Not that! Right here!” Matt shoved Hutch’s head toward his underwear-bound dick. “Right there!”

“Oh! Now you remember what we’re doing,” Hutch chuckled.

“I won! You gotta, uh…gotta…do the thing! Blow!” Matt struggled for the right words.

“Might help if these were gone.” Hutch yanked down Matt’s underwear. Then he blew a stream of air onto the half-mast penis.

“Ooooh! That…feels funny! Do it again!” Matt ordered, giggling.

“Sure, but then I’m finishing this. We need to sleep this mess off. Tomorrow’s gonna be hell for you,” Hutch said, repeating the act.

“Uh…why?” Matt asked, not getting it.

“’Cause you drank more beer than me and you have a low tolerance. That hangover is gonna be a bitch for you,” Hutch replied.

“Nah, I’ll…I’ll…be okay,” Matt waved the words off.

“Whatever you say,” Hutch rolled his eyes.

Matt gasped, bucking slightly at the warmth that enveloped him. Hutch worked the meat in his mouth, being gentle with teeth and tongue. Matt crooned, thrusting shallowly as he grew harder. Hutch smirked slightly, upping the suction.

“O-o-oh god, Hutch!” Matt moaned, slumped over Hutch’s back. “Feels good!”

It shouldn’t take much to get Matt off. The kid was drunk, tired, and easily pleased. Hutch upped his pace, taking in the rest. His fingers danced over Matt’s scrotum, earning a sharp gasp and a hiccup-giggle from the Epsilon.

Sometimes Hutch was really glad that Matt was an Epsilon. They were so easily pleased with whatever you did with them. The only thing that separated them from Kappas was the intent. Epsilons did whatever they could to get attention from anyone higher in the pecking order than them. Throw them a bone and they’d love you forever until you next ignored them. Rinse and repeat.

And Matt was a master at getting attention. Sometimes the wrong attention, as his encounter with Hugo proved. But Hugo was an asshole who targeted everyone, so no wonder. Damn sex-craving Kappas…

Hutch forced his thoughts off of Hugo. He focused back on Matt, the boy rutting into his mouth, scratching at his back, mewling his name to the ceiling. The Rho faintly wondered if anyone downstairs could hear them.

He dragged his tongue along the underside and Matt came undone with a shrill cry. Hutch swallowed back the semen that rushed across his tongue. When Matt ceased to thrust, too weak and tired, Hutch pulled back. Swiping over it a few times to clean up any mess, he sat up and peeled Matt from his back. The boy was hazy, hiccups having died at some point.

“That…was good… Good Hutchy…” Matt patted Hutch’s head before slumping against his chest.

Hutch pivoted, settling the Epsilon onto the bed. Pulling up Matt’s underwear, the Rho tossed the jeans to the floor. Matt wasn’t the type to sleep completely in the nude, unlike Hutch. Hutch pulled the blankets over Matt and stepped away once he was sure the redhead was asleep.

At least the bet was finished. But now Hutch had another problem—his own erection straining against his sweatpants.

The Rho turned, heading for the door. He’d never tell a soul but jerking it while another person was in the room, especially if that person didn’t know, made Hutch highly uncomfortable. He preferred privacy during his masturbation sessions. Even if Matt was sleeping, jerking it in their room was something Hutch would rather avoid.

He stepped out of their room, closing the door behind him. He headed for the bathroom, nearly colliding with Harvey. The Beta had just exited the bathroom himself and, from smell alone, they suffered the same issue.

Hutch shuffled awkwardly, praying his dark skin hid his embarrassed flush. Harvey looked away, cheeks pink too.

“Just have to wash my hands,” was the first excuse out of Hutch’s mouth.

If Harvey said anything, Hutch didn’t hear it. He slipped past the Beta to the sink. A soft clunk made him jump, spinning around. The bathroom door was closed, likely by Harvey. Hutch felt his heart flutter. Thank the gods for Harvey’s kindness. He reached over and flicked the lock closed.

Hutch tried not to think about anything much when he did his business. Matt and Harvey floated in his head though. The scent of Harvey and the knowledge that he’d come in here to masturbate only minutes ago quickly took over. Hutch came with a snarl, teeth bared ferociously.

He cleaned up his mess with paper towels before exiting. The hall smelled of sex. No doubt Amelia and Sunday were getting it on. Everyone was back upstairs now. It made him curious as to who won Kings.

Well, actually, he was more curious about who lost. Definitely not the girls. Hutch prayed it was Hugo. The fucker deserved to lose.

The door to Edgar’s room was open. Hutch poked his head in. Elson was asleep in bed, soft snores escaping him. Edgar was perched Indian-style on his bed, laptop open, typing like an Olympic sprinter ran. His fingers raced over the keys with unmatched precision, glasses aglow from his monitor.

Hutch knocked on the doorframe, trying not to startle Edgar. If he had, the Psi didn’t show it.

“What?”

“Game over?” Hutch asked.

“I had to drink the cup. I broke the Ring of Fire,” Edgar reported, not missing a beat as he typed.

“You nearly done editing that video? The one about the gummy bears,” Hutch asked.

“That was done within hours of it being shot. I’m working on backlog for Matt’s channel and finishing reports for when we get home,” Edgar replied.

“Oh,” Hutch withdrew. “Uh, night.”

“Good night. Shut the door when you go, please,” Edgar requested, not even looking up.

Hutch closed the door to Edgar’s room and headed back to his own. Matt was still sleeping. Hutch closed the door behind him and climbed into his own bed. He still felt a bit worked up from all the sex scents in the hall but jerking off had helped stave most of it. A few minutes of laying there sent Hutch straight to sleep.

.o.o.o.o.

He was correct in his prediction that morning. Matt was crying out in pain when Hutch awoke. The Rho’s temples pulsed painfully but it was nothing compared to the headache Matt had.

“Warned you,” Hutch said, helping the redhead stand up.

“You did? When?”

“Last night before I blew you.”

“You blew me? I don’t remember that!” Matt argued. “I crashed when we got here.”

“I’d throw up and prove it, but I don’t think your semen’s there anymore,” Hutch offered.

“Dude, you did not blow me. The bet’s still on. You still owe me,” Matt declared, head in his hands.

Hutch watched the boy stagger from their room to fetch pain pills. The Rho shook his head. Of all the things to block out due to alcohol, it was getting blown. What the hell?


End file.
